Shared Sister

My ading (locano honorific for younger sister) Aie was Tony’s too. Like an older brother, he had been, in words and in deeds, supportive and protective of her.   

Tony and I got married amidst a turbulent time in our country.

 

Tony and Aie (lower left photo);Tony with my family (lower right) before the wedding ceremony (above).  

The early 70s was a period of civil unrest: relentless demonstrations, protests, and marches against the administration of then President Ferdinand Marcos were mounted by students, supported by workers and the urban poor. 

Aie’s dorm on the UP campus was teargassed. This was later followed by the bombing of the opposition party’s rally at Plaza Miranda, causing deaths and injuries. Marcos suspended the writ of habeas corpus, the precursor to Martial Law in 1972. 

I knew Aie to be fiercely independent, a warrior, but times were harsh. Tony would always remind me, “Find out how Aie is doing.” “Send her some spending money.” “Convince her to live with us.” 

Through the years, Aie’s job took her to many places in the world. Still, Tony would treat her like a helpless little girl and orders me, “Don’t forget to send Aie pocket money.” 

Even in our senior years, Tony would ask how Aie was spending her birthday. His ading could do no wrong, except when she forgot to turn off the light, lock the door, or leave things lying around, and other odds and ends. Then she would hear from him. 

He never allowed Aie to pay for her share in family reunions. He’d nag me to pay for Aie’s, too. When she joined our Chong dynasty celebrations, he wouldn’t take a cent from her for expenses. 

The turnaround (a part of Aie’s eulogy during Tony’s wake) . . . 

  

“For our take-out dishes last Christmas, I told Manong Tony, ‘This one’s on me.” 

“’No way!’ he replied.” 

“‘Manong, I can now afford it!’ I stood my ground.”  

“When our orders arrived, Manong Tony gave me the receipt, allowing me to pay for it. He came back to hand me my exact change.” 

Tony's rare solo photo (left) is the same one we used for chapel and memorial services requirements. Aie's (right), one seat away, was taken a few minutes later--before the Chong boys sat down for our Christmas noche buena.  

I can’t recall Aie’s exact words, but she felt that Tony's silent acquiescence meant that he was finally confident she can go it alone. It was a foreshadowing of his departure from her life. It was Tony’s last Christmas.   

Tony and I got engaged in the US with plans to marry in the Philippines. He came home months ahead of me 

This is the part of Aie’s narrative that I never knew till then (a feast of grace surprised me, eulogy after eulogy, through the four-day wake):  

He went to her UP dorm to introduce himself. He drove a high-end car and treated Aie to a plushy restaurant, “hoping to impress me.” 

“I was not impressed,” Aie said. "But it was a thumbs up that he took time to meet me." 

Another turnaround for Tony:  He realized that my family and I were exactly like him in values: no glitz, no frills, no fanfare; simple and down-to-earth. 

The next time he visited Aie, he drove his own rickety old car. 

"Manong Tony was family before my sister Grace came home to marry him."